


High

by zarryslovebites



Series: Zarry One-Shots [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Play, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Drug Use, Drugs, Drunk Sex, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kinks, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarryslovebites/pseuds/zarryslovebites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you're confused, basically harry and zayn's moment was just a delusion</p></blockquote>





	High

" _You're gone and I got to stay high all the time, to keep you off my mind, ooh ooh." -_ ** _Habits (Stay High)_** **// Tove Lo**

//

He didn't know how to make the pain go away. He tried everything and nothing seemed to work. Why wouldn't it go away?

**_"I eat my dinner in my bathtub // then I go to sex clubs // watchin' freaky people gettin' it on ..."_ **

This is where he usually ended up. In the club that they first met. The club that he first ever saw  _him_. The club that started his world. Or the club where he met the person that was responsible for that. As he leaned up against the bar, sipping at his beer that he felt still wasn't strong enough, even after the third one, he watched. He watched as strangers and couples grinded on each other in a drunken lust.  _They used to do that._  They'd be all over each other, grinding, clinging on to one another as if they couldn't get enough of the other person. The pain of the memory was too much for him. He turned around and sat in a stool, hitting up the bartender for yet another beer. His fourth. He needed to drink the pain and sorrows away.

**_"Throw up in the tub // then I go to sleep // and I drank up all my money // dazed and kinda lonely ..."_ **

It was a normal routine. He'd come home in a drunken rage, punch things, kick objects, sometimes even break glass. Then he'd stumble to the bathroom and throw up in the first container - like object he could find. Either the sink, bathtub, toilet or trash can. Then he pass out or just lay on the floor and fall asleep. He didn't even bother using his bed anymore. He never made it there. Nor did he want to. He wanted to throw it away. Burn it. Douse it in gasoline and watch it light up in flames. It brought back too many memories. He couldn't sleep there. Not alone. Not without Harry. He felt so lost and alone with Harry. He felt dead. He missed how warm he felt. He missed his cuddles. Missed cuddling with him. He was just lost and lonely. He couldn't think. He'd just stare at the wall and drown in his own pity and sorrows. Sometimes he'd grab something, anything; a toilet paper roll, a towel, the trash can when he hadn't threw up his stomach into it, and he'd hold it. He'd pretend it'd be his Harry.

**_"You're gone and I got to stay high all the time to keep you off my mind // ooh - ooh, ooh - ooh //_ **

When drinking wouldn't work, he'd find something better. His favorite thing. He'd go into his kitchen and get his tin from underneath a wood board. He hid it in his bedroom before, but he doesn't go in there anymore. Because every time he'd walk in there, he'd run right back out to prevent himself from breaking, prevent himself from kneeling right down onto the ground and cry. There were memories of Harry everywhere in this house. But not as strong as they were in that bedroom. Maybe he needed to sell the house.

He'd walk over to the living room and sit right on the couch, on the right side as he sat cross - legged, facing towards the left. Just like he always did. Harry would always be on the opposite side of him, facing him. He'd open up the tin container and pull out all of it's contents. A single sheet of the thin paper, a lighter and a small bag of his most prized possession, the weed. He'd close the lid and set the objects on top and he'd roll. He'd set the tin down on the floor beside him and he'd light the blunt. He'd take the first puff and he'd sit back and let the fuzzy feeling inside of him start to grow and the cloud of smoke in the air savor into his pores, to his brain and cloud his mind.

**_"Spend my days locked in a haze // trying to forget you babe // I fall back down // gotta stay high all my life // to forget I'm missing you // ooh - ooh, ooh - ooh ..."_ **

He'd forget about all the times, they'd do this. How Zayn would light the first one and then shotgun the puff he breathed in into Harry's mouth as he sat on the other side. Then he'd roll Harry his own and they'd sit there and forget the world around them and eventually Harry would lean into Zayn first and they'd devour each other right there on that couch.

It hurt so much to remember Harry. He had to forget. He needed to forget. And that's what he'd do in these blissful moments. He'd forget how he had managed to screw up the best damn thing in his life. Even better than his precious weed and getting high off his mind.

**_"Pick up daddies at the playground // how I spend my day time // loosen up the frown, make them feel alive // oh, make it fast and greasy // I know my way too easy ..."_ **

Nobody was as good as Harry. Nobody knew how to touch him just right to give him the best orgasm he could experience. Nobody knew all his kinks. Nobody knew his body just like Harry did. Nobody had the touches like he did. He'd pick up any man he saw in hopes of them being the right guy that would make him forget. He'd hope that every guy he pulled into his house and fucked them so good that they forget their name would be the one that'd be his remedy. Be his remedy to this fucked up train wreck he had become.

He never took anyone in the bedroom though. No. That was  _his and Harry's_ bedroom. He also never bottomed. The only person he would ever bottom for would be Harry. He's the one and only person he'd do that for. Nobody else was worthy enough.

Every time he was with someone new, someone he didn't know their name or bother to know, he always thought of Harry. Sometimes he'd even cry out his name as he reached his high. He was always hitting a high and yet he still couldn't forget Harry. Harry was always the name on his mind and his tongue.

**_"Staying in my play pretend // where the fun ain't go no end // oh can't go home alone again // need someone to numb the pain ..."_ **

This particular night, the pain in his heart, his whole body wasn't going away. He was on cloud nine, having already smoked his blunts for the night and he couldn't shake the memories. The high wasn't working. So he grabbed his keys and he left to where they first met.

-

Beer after beer, he kept drinking. He was drunk and high, now he just needed somebody to fuck away his feelings with. He turned his bar stool to face the crowd, beer in hand. He watched the people dance and grind, flashbacks of them coming into Zayn's mind. So he drank. Tilting his head back and letting the liquid slide down his throat, over and over.

He scanned the crowd, looking for someone who looked just right. Someone who was just right to make him forget everything. Forget fucking everything.  _But no one was ever right. No one was ever Harry._  He scanned until he stopped. He blinked twice, then another three times just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. It couldn't be. No.

He set down his seventh bottle of alcohol, maybe it was eight, maybe nine, he wasn't counting. He stayed in his seat as Harry came walking towards him in all his glory. Looking just as beautiful as he remembered. Dimples on display and bright green eyes shining. His heart stopped. He found the right person. The one who could fix everything.

As Harry approached him, he put his hands on Zayn's face, staring into his eyes.

" _Harry,_ " Zayn choked out in disbelief. He didn't think Harry would ever come back to him. He didn't think he'd ever speak to him. Not after what he did to him. Not after he shattered Harry's heart.

"Shh," Harry shook his head, "Come on. Let's get out of here. I wanna go home."

Zayn nodded his head, feeling dizzy, the alcohol was affecting his mind.

Harry grabbed Zayn's hand and Zayn got up and followed Harry out of the club.  _Their club_. They walked, well Zayn stumbled, all the way to the house.  _Their house._  Zayn followed Harry in, all the way upstairs, into the bedroom.  _Their bedroom_. Zayn's breath hitched in his throat as Harry opened the door and they walked in. Zayn hadn't stepped foot in this room in almost a month. Not since that day he had left Zayn.

Harry had let go of Zayn's hand and tugged of his shoes, laying himself on the bed, lying on his back. "You going to join me?" He asked quietly.

Zayn said nothing but nodded his head, kicking off his shoes and laying right next to him, turning onto his right side so he could see him. Harry did the same, turning onto his side. The two men laid there in silence before Zayn broke it.

"I missed you." Zayn spoke up.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't missed you." Harry replied back in his quiet tone.

Zayn didn't want to say anything back because he knew if he did, the dam that had been building up over the past weeks would break and he wouldn't be able to stop it. But he had to. He had to say something. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry I screwed up. I was scared, so fucking scared." Zayn choked out as the tears began to roll.

"I know you are," Harry assured him, caressing Zayn's cheek with his hand.

"I didn't mean to cheat on you. I was so scared. Scared because I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with feelings for  _you_. Damn it, Harry! I have never been so deeply in love with someone, felt so many feelings for someone other than you. You're so special. And I was so scared because you're a man and I was,  _I am_  in love with you. So much. I fucked her because I was scared of being in love with a man and I thought maybe if I had sex with a girl, it'd make me come to my senses and that what we had was just a fling. But it wasn't Harry.  _It isn't_. I love you Harry. I was so stupid. I miss you, your touches, your scent,  _you_. And I fucked up and I don't know how to fix it. I can't forget you. I can't get you out of my head and it drives me insane! I am lost, crazy and alone without you. You're my drug, you're my high, you're my everything, everything that I need. I lost you Harry, I hurt you. And I'm so sorry." Zayn gasped out for air, stuggling against the dry heaves that had developed from his sobbing. His chest hurt and all he wanted was his Harry to forgive him. So he didn't have to forget anymore.

Harry stayed silent and kept stroking Zayn's cheek. But he then slowly leaned in and gave a soft but passionate kiss onto Zayn's lips.

_He had missed this for so long_. This is what he needed. Harry. His Harry. It had been so long.

Zayn hesitantly put his hands on Harry's hips as their lips moved in sync against each other. He didn't want to move too fast. He was touching his Harry again. He had missed this for so long.

"Let's make love, Zayn. Right here in our bedroom. Where we always made love. Because you love me and I love you." Harry whispered against Zayn's lips.

"Nobody's been in here besides you, babe. Just me and you," Zayn breathed as he detached his mouth from Harry's and slowly undid Harry's pants, sliding them off of him.

This room was where Zayn and Harry had loved each other so many times. They never had rough, hot fucks in here. They did that all over the house. This was where they had their most intimate moments together. Where they went slow and easy, really tasting and getting to know each other. Zayn had his most memorable and special moments in here with Harry. This room held so many memories for them both. He thought they'd never be in here ever again.

As they undressed each other, they spent some more time kissing and roaming their hands all over each other's bodies, remembering how the other felt.

"I want you to be inside me, Harry. I've missed how you've felt inside me," Zayn pleaded, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

"Let me love you, babe." Harry smiled as he pushed Zayn gently onto his back and hovered over him, giving a slow, long and sensual kiss.

As they showed each other just how much they missed one another and let the love pour out in between both, Zayn was on cloud nine. He missed his  _favorite_ high, the one that beat out all the others. Harry.

-

Zayn woke up the next morning feeling worse than he had ever in his whole entire life. His mouth was dry and his head was literally pounding, he could feel his temples pulse. He had a sick feeling in his mouth and his eyes burned. He was so stiff. But as he looked around the room, he noticed where he was. He remembered what happened. Harry and him were in their bedroom.

"Harry," he hummed out contently as he smiled lazily. He outstretched his arms to be met with open space next to him and the sheets were cold and untouched. He turned onto his side and frowned. There was no one there.

"Harry?" He called out more frantically. No, Harry didn't leave him. He said he had forgiven Zayn. He wouldn't leave, not again.

He tried to remember. Tried to regain all of the events of last night. All he remembered was sitting in the living room with him and his tin container, smoking with 'Harry' on the couch. But it wasn't working, the high wasn't getting to him. So he ended up in the kitchen, head in the fridge cleaning out his beer stash in there. He was drunk and the smoke was still clouding his head and he was tired.  _So tired_. He wanted to be close to Harry, he wanted Harry with him. So he remembers. He remembers walking into the bedroom and laying down.

"No, no,  _no!_ " Zayn cried into the pillow. He was with Harry. Harry was here. He was. They touched and they kissed all right here in their bed once more. He felt him. They were together. But reality hit him and he knew.

He had hurt Harry and he fucked up. Zayn missed him, he missed him with everything he had. And Harry was him, he was here last night.

_But only in his fantasies._

**_"You're gone and I got to stay high all my life, to keep you off my mind, ooh - ooh."_ **

**Author's Note:**

> if you're confused, basically harry and zayn's moment was just a delusion


End file.
